Stutter

I Didn't Want This Again

I ran, ignoring the yells of my name behind me from Mikey, ignored all the stares I was getting from the people around me, ignore everything but the feeling of betrayal coursing through my body.

I ran out the front doors and in the middle of the small street, getting honked at by cars that had to screech to a stop. I ignored them too and went straight to my car and fumbled with the keys. They fell from my shaky hands while I tried pressing the button to unlock it.

I went to pick them up, but a pair of pale hands stopped me and immediately wrapped me in a tight hug. I didn't even fight it, I just hugged Michael back and cried. Michael smoothed my hair down and stayed quiet, letting my cry. Once my crying ceased to sniffles, he pulled back and grabbed my keys from the ground.

"I'm driving," He announced.

I wanted to argue with him, but I was just too tired. I felt numb with emotion but at the same time I felt completely dead of all emotion like I felt nothing at all. I went around my car and got into the passenger seat while Michael put our bags in the back seat.

He made sure I was buckled before pulling out and starting towards my place. I folded my legs to my chest and stared out my window, watching random trees, other cars, and houses fly by in a slight blur.

From the corner of my gaze, I could see Michael giving me cautious looks of concern, but I just kept looking out my window, remembering the look of shock and something I couldn't distinguish cross over Ashton's face when he listened to Delilah. Why would he believe her so easily? Over his own girlfriend too!

I felt a few tears run down my cheeks while my thoughts ran wild.

What is Ashton does still like her? Delilah did break up with him and he begged her not to leave, so why wouldn't he still like her? Why should he like me? I'm nothing compared to her!

"We're here," Michael said breaking my thoughts.

Blinking a couple times, I realized we were sitting outside my house. Michael got out of the car and grabbed the bags and went into the house. Both my parents currently gone and I didnt really care. I got out slowly.

I'm not as pretty as her. She has full volume hair with a natural wave and mine is just more on the poofy side and completely straight. She had full lips and mine are on the thinner side. She has curves and is adorably short, I may have curves but I'm tall so they look weird too me. She's beautiful and I'm just plain.

"What ever you're thinking, stop," Michael said the moment I stepped inside my house.

I looked up to see him waiting by the entrance for me.

"Why?" I asked.

My voice sounded small and hoarse. You could plainly hear my hurt in my voice, I wasn't trying to hide it. Sadness and slight hurt passed over Mikey's face. I knew he doesn't like to me like this, but I just cant help it.

"Because none of it is true," He argued, following me to the living room.

I sprawled out on the floor, laying on my stomach completely feeling done with life and emotions.

"How would you know?" I questioned. "You don't know what I'm thinking."

Michael sat down on the couch and I could feel his gaze burning into the back of my head, but I refused to look at him. I needed to focus on my breathing or I was going to break down again.

"You're thinking of every way she is better than you just because she managed to convince Ashton of something without talking to you first," He said simply.

I bit my lip when he got it completely right.

"So what if I am?" I snapped. "She is better than me!" I curled up into the fetal position, holding onto my knees, wanting to hold something.

Mikey slipped off the couch and pulled me apart, pulling me to his chest instead. I tried my best not to cry but some tears betrayed me just like Ashton.

"No its not," Mikey whispered in my ear. "She isn't better than you. Want to know how I know that without even knowing her?"

I stayed quiet, knowing if I opened my mouth, I would start to cry.

"You're better than her because she was a bitch who told a lie to someone that you're dating. You're a better person than her because instead of staying and picking a fight, you ran off, whether it was from hurt of something else, it was being the bigger person."

Even though I don't want to believe it, I know he's right. She's the low life that had to lie just to get some attention that she obviously wanted for some unknown reason. The again, having Ashton completely blame me without even asking my side of the story brought on painful memories.

"Michael," I sobbed out. "You don't get it."

"I don't get what?" He asked.

His lips moved along my head, his breath tickling my cheek.

I took a shaky breath.

"My last boyfriend-the only boyfriend I've had before Ash-left me for someone better than me," I admitted. "It's happening again and I don't think I can handle it this time."

I paused but didn't pause long enough for Mikey to add a comment.

"I thought I loved the guy, Mikey," I whimpered. "I thought I had actually loved the guy that left me for another and I thought he had loved me too, but I guess I was wrong. It had broken me, left me in pieces, and I just can't do it again."

He wrapped his arms more tighter around me.

"I'm so sorry," He said gently.

I held back my sob and pulled back from him.

"I just want to take a hot shower," I said standing up.

Michael got up with me and went up the stairs to my room. He collapsed on my bed and I just went to my joined bathroom, not caring. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into a hot stream of water that immediately relaxed my tense muscles.

I turned up the water as hot as my body would allow. I let out all my emotion, crying as hard as I have in a while. I let the hot water wash over me, consume me, take over me. I wanted everything to just disappear.

When the hot water ran cold, I got out, wanting my skin to continue burning so I can ignore the emotional pain. I wrapped a towel around my torso and one around my head, wrapping up my hair. I stood in front of my sink and wiped away the fog. The image in front of me was of someone I didnt know.

She looked like me and moved when I did, but the girl in the mirror was a girl who has been broken one too many times and she didn't like it. Her eyes were dull and bloodshot when mine are usually bright and clear. Her skin was red from the hot shower and just and the overall way she's holding herself says she's done.

The person in the mirror and the one standing in front of it had one thing in common: We're done.